


Outtakes

by demon_dream



Series: still somehow the same [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Tags to be added, deleted scenes and off-script shenanigans, not canon to Like The Shadows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 22:40:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20379280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demon_dream/pseuds/demon_dream
Summary: Behind the scenes of Like The Shadows, mutiny and sabotage run rampant. Beating these boys back into the plot is hard work, but here are a few non-canon events that were too funny not to talk about.I reiterate: These are deleted scenes that were dumped during editing for being OOC or otherwise not conforming to what the story will be.





	Outtakes

For once, nothing was exploding and nobody’s limbs were falling off. Nightmare was wrapping up a startlingly productive meeting with his minions concerning loot and prisoners taken in a recent raid on a neutral Underswap AU. It had been a brilliant move, brought to his attention by Horror, who had been growing increasingly nervous about its resemblance to the decline of his own AU. Weakened, politically unstable, still flush with resources- honestly, Nightmare wasn’t in the habit of taking candy from babies, but he understood the appeal. And everything had fallen into place beautifully. Nightmare might even go so far as to say he was _happy_. He dropped his business posture to sprawl in his wing-backed chair, tentacles flicking lazily, and looked over each of his murderous generals with immense satisfaction.

Horror chuckled roughly, palming the handle of his axe with a healthy glow to his eye that Nightmare was responsible for. In the next chair at the old stone table sat Killer, still jittery from the action and scraping his knives along the table’s edge, muttering something sing-song and vulgar with a wide, distracted grin. Definitely happy, but not in a way that prickled or annoyed, so Nightmare let him continue defacing castle property with a secret smirk hidden in his dripping face.

Cross, sweet guillible Cross, was directly across from Nightmare and attempting to sit at rigid military attention. He mostly managed to look uncomfortable. Nightmare, never one to leave a sleeping dog alone, idly locked eyes with his personal assassin just to see what would happen. Cross made these things too easy, usually, though over the years he’d managed to at least build up some sort of endurance for Nightmare’s fascinated poking. Tonight it took a full thirty seconds of lidless staring while Cross’s subconscious churned uncomfortably before a pale purple flush started creeping over his cheekbones. It was a bit like watching a flower wilt. His chin would fold in, then his shoulders. If he was really surrendering he might pull up his hood to hide in while he shrank, face glowing brightly. Easy, predictable. Still fun, at least for now. But the humor faded quickly, and Nightmare brushed him aside to eye his last two minions.

Dust met his scrutiny with calm, clear eyes, mentally present with a small, cruel smile that was mostly directed at Cross If Nightmare was reading him correctly. His knives were hidden, his hands weren’t twitching even after recent combat. This was almost as satisfying as Horror’s healthy eyeglow. He’d found a weapon, tempered it, claimed it, made something functional out of the brittle bits and Dust was finally, fully his. Without question or hesitation. These boys would die for him if he asked, and while earning the loyalty of a madman was engaging, the loyalty of a sane man was so much more satisfying. Choosing willingly to be Nightmare’s pawn made something in his cold chest thrum with poisonous delight, every time.

Which left Error, who had at least three chairs between him and everyone else, bored to metaphorical tears and elbow deep in a new knitting project. Error wasn’t quite his, mostly because Error would sooner kill everyone in this AU and then himself if Nightmare dared to presume as much. He hated people, he hated the good guys who didn’t know when to leave a man alone, he hated Ink’s creative binges, and only tolerated Nightmare’s crew because house rules were very strict about respect and basic decency. Error didn’t want to socialize. He just wanted to... exist in the same general space as people who weren’t trying to kill him, sometimes. The situation was fragile. Nightmare assumed nothing, but based on observation? Error was slightly more willing to help than before. Never politely or with any grace, but he would sometimes steal food for the castle or destroy a difficult AU if Nightmare complained loudly enough. He’d willingly showed up at this debriefing. It was some sort of progress.

“Boss, are we done here, or do you wanna stare at our ugly mugs some more?” Killer groaned, slumping onto his knife-scarred section of table. “I’m fuckin’ beat.”

“For the most part.” The king of the castle drawled humorlessly. “I only had one last point to cover.”

Killer groaned loudly and slammed his skull into the table while Horror slapped his back with zero sympathy. In a blink of a moment there was a metal clatter and Killer twitched to the left, dodging Dust’s idly thrown knife without looking. He groaned louder. Cross looked torn between dying or attempting to scold the older skeleton and settled on pulling his hood up instead.

Nightmare sent a tentacle to collect the wayward knife, looked pointedly at the group, and tossed it at Error, who caught it with a flurry of long blue tongues and promptly ate the damn thing without looking away from his knitting. The others... stared. Nightmare coughed.

“I just wanted to say that I’m pleased with your work. This mission went... more smoothly than expected, and because you’re all moderately competent we can actually get some sleep tonight.” Nightmare smirked at them all, inclining his head. “Not bad.”

There were various noises of delight, from Killer’s dramatic intake of breath and tiny little squeak to Cross actually rattling, a smile spreading as his flush came back full-force. Horror leaned back comfortably in his chair, balancing it on two legs with his eyesockets half-lidded like a satisfied cat. “Don’t hurt yourself on our account, boss.”

Killer hissed and slapped Horror’s humerus frantically. “Shut the fuck up, shut up, what if he doesn’t do it again?”

**Author's Note:**

> Prototype of Chapter Two: The Tower Upright. Scrapped for being too dorky.


End file.
